eight, and they won't eat cold bacon, they must have it hot; of course
the waste is something fearful; at eleven they have beer and cheese; at
one there is dinner; at five they have tea; and at nine supper.
Five meals a day--it really is terrible, it is wicked, it really is!
You have had none of these troubles, Hester, and you may think
yourself very lucky.

"We have just got rid of our cook; the trouble she gave us, it really
is beyond words. She said she was troubled with fits, hysteria, or
something of that sort--at least that is the reason she gave for her
conduct. I knew there was something wrong, I could see it in her eyes.
I said: 'This is not right; it can't be right.' One night she left the
dinner half cooked and went roaming all over the country; she came
back the next afternoon, and I found her baking. Then there was
Robinson. Do you remember the pretty housemaid? You saw her when you
were at Woborn. I am sure she must have had gentle blood in her veins;
she wasn't a bit like a servant, so elegant and graceful. Those soft
blue eyes of hers. I often used to look at them and think how
beautiful they were. Well, she fell madly in love with West.
Notwithstanding his bandy legs, there was something fascinating about
him. He had a way about him that the maid-servants used to like;
Robinson wasn't the first. Well, she completely lost her head,
perfectly frantic--frantic; her eyes on fire. I saw it at once; you
know I am pretty sharp. I just look round, one look round; I see it
all, I take it all in. I said: 'This is not right; this cannot be
right. Robinson is a respectable girl.' Her people I knew to be most
respectable people in Chichester; I had heard all about them through
the Eastwicks. I said, 'Robinson, you must go, I will give you a
month's wages, but you must go back to your people. You know why I am
sending you away; it is for your own good, otherwise I am sorry to